They invoked the gods by song, offering Soma for abundant wealth. The pleasant one, in the sky, beyond the measure, filled the pot—may the divine draught settle for us.

Sing (to the Soma), let us praise the gods; send forth the Soma for (the acquisition of) great wealth. He passes sweet-flavoured pure through the fleecy filter; our (Soma) devoted to the gods alights on the pitcher.

Let us sing praises to the Gods: sing loudly, send ye the Soma forth for mighty riches. Let him flow, sweetly-flavoured, through the filter, and let our pious one rest in the pitcher.